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Archive for February, 2007

Isn’t it beautiful???

Look! Sunshine! I’m so happy to see the sun. It’s been nothing but clouds here for so long. Pictures are so much prettier when they’ve got blue sky in them.

After reading yesterday’s blog post about my having a hard time getting my clothes on, City Boy has offered to help me get dressed. Oh, please, as if! Get your collective minds out of the gutter, will you? After 27 years of marriage, the man has seen my tiny hiney in all it’s dimpled glory and trust me, he’s in a bigger hurry than I am to get me properly covered.

So here’s the deal. I live on a twisty, windy little country road that has virtually no passing available. Double yellow line all the way from town.

This is the double yellow line going down the road in front of my house.

This is a double yellow line, up close, for all of you who ride bicycles.
So why on God’s green earth do these cyclists feel the need to come out here to ride their little two wheelers? Today there were a couple guys from the university out here. They actually show up quite often, wearing their little spandex WWU outfits. I’ve grown rather weary of having to follow along behind them; they take up the whole bloody road, riding side by side.

Cyclists in tight fitting spandex taking up the entire lane on my twisty, curvy doubled yellow lined road.
I’m so tired of cyclist using my tax payer dollars for their little biking enjoyment that I’ve developed a game to play with them. It’s called bowling for bicycles. Now, you could make it a simple game and just run into them from behind, but that would take the sport out of it. What you do is sneak up alongside, then open up your car door, smacking the one in the rear in the…well…rear! Send him flying far enough to knock down his buddy and mark down your score. If you’re lucky, there’ll be a whole herd of them (or are they flocks? Perhaps a gaggle; I never remember) and you can actually bowl a strike!
Now…are you ready? Here it is! Winsday!!!!
Yup, and most of you have already guessed what I’m going to be asking you. I want to know your most embarrassing moments! That’s right, folks, bring it on. Come Clean! It’s good for the soul…or at least for a laugh. And if it turns out you’re able to not only laugh at yourself and get others to laugh along with you, you could just find yourself with a gift basket full of handmade bath and body care products valued at over $50!
Now, here’s a twist you likely hadn’t considered; not only will the winning entry win the grand prize, but I’ll be sending out a second gift to one lucky winner who’s name will be drawn from the comments that get posted! So even if you’ve not got the most embarrassing story, you could still win!
I’ll be accepting stories all day on Winsday and Thursday…then letting you know on Friday who our winner is =) Have fun!

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Nuts and Trees…and such

I do enjoy a good laugh now and again. Growing up the greatest source of entertainment seemed to be my mother. (Hi mom.) She’d wear her clothes backwards. (Hi mom!) Yup. To town, even. If you’re old like me, you’ll recall those polyester pants that had that funky little pleat sewn into the front of the legs. Remember those? Maybe pleat isn’t the right word, but suffice to say it was a distinct identifying mark.
One day we came home and listened to Mom’s story about how she’d gone shopping that day, and it wasn’t until she was in the dressing room trying on pants that she realized she’d been walking around with those pants on backwards! Trend setter…yeah…that’s what we’ll call her. Except that no one picked up on it.
A few years later I came home and was sitting at the counter and she was asking me how my day was at school. She turned her back to me so she could stir something on the stove. I nearly fell off the bar stool laughing. She turned back and gave me the strangest look, asking what was so funny? Um…V necked sweaters are usually worn with the V in front, mom.
Ah….I’m so glad this nut didn’t fall too close to that tree…
Here are some recent pics I took of my favorite model. Darling works for french fries, it’s really nice! I’m sure you can tell that I was fiddling with the color on this first one (she’s not naturally yellow, you know!)



I’m rather fond of the black and whites; I’m not thinking she’s going to be fond of the one below =) Or perhaps I need to pay her in more than fries?

So anyway, I just came home from Bible Study. Normally I’d wear jeans or slacks; for some reason I decided to wear a skirt tonight. Dug down deep through my drawer and found a pair of black tights (why on earth did I buy four pair of brown tights? Does anyone know?) Tossed on the skirt, a turtle neck and the most darling new jacket…well, new to me at least. A thrift store find of 99 cents, and let me tell you it’s smashing! Someone had gifted me with a pair of shoes, which really looked like boots if you had on pants. Nice, tall heels (which I don’t need at 5’9″, but what the heck, they were free.) Looked pretty darn good as I left the house. Most expensive thing I had on was my underwear!

Anyway, I was helping in the children’s program tonight, so had to sit on the floor (I kinda forgot about that as I was dressing, dern.) That’s when I got a good look at my tights. They weren’t black. They were navy blue! My skirt and shoes were definitely black. My tights were definitely not! Good thing it was just the kids. Oh, yes, I’m sure the ladies who were there with me noticed. I tried to pull my skirt down low over my calves and ankles.

As I self consciously sat there with my blue tights (not black), my mind drifted from the bible study at hand to how my mother used to wear her clothes backwards. Good Lord, thank you for getting my clothes on frontwards!

Grabbed a small blizzard on the way home (I know, I know!), then went to my room to change. Which is when I realized the most horrible thing. My skirt was on backwards!!!! Yes! It was!!! Buttons and all…they ought to have been in front, and the tag behind, but somehow in my haste, the buttons were behind and the tag in the front! Do you think anyone noticed? Do you think I pulled the look off okay? Maybe I’ll set a new fashion trend…

Okay, so this nut is a little closer to the tree than she’d like to be. But hey, I’ve now come clean on yet another embarrassing little moment. Will you come clean when the time comes?

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I just got these cool posters in the mail from my friend Ramona at the BLM in Oregon. Darling and I are doing a demo on adopting a wild horse at Super Saturday in a couple of weeks and these posters are to hand out. Cool, eh? (Did you know I spoke a second language? Yep, American and Canadian, eh!)



“City Boy…can we get ducklings?”

The answer was no. No ducklings. No more animals, he said. Hmph. It’s not like we’ve got that many. Two cats. Three dogs. Seven chickens. Two horses. Six sheep. That’s not too many.

Perhaps I shouldn’t list how many of each we’ve got…that way if I decide to get a few more chickens, he won’t notice…right?

I came across a blog tonight that talked about Guinea Hens. Have you ever owned a guinea? It’s a pleasure everyone ought enjoy at some point. We had them years ago, back when City Boy, the little Geek Boy and I were still living in town. Town was not the best place to keep barnyard foul, so before long they were living at Hovander Park. I’d tell you the story, but I think instead you ought to read the blog post I came across. I’m thinking it’s booger worthy…see what you think.

Did anyone watch the Oscars last night? I didn’t watch much…did manage to catch Tom Cruise. I’m not a Cruise fan; thought it funny that he received such applause. Perhaps they were afraid he’d jump up and down on their chairs if not encouraged to stay up on stage? And talk about a politically correct Oscar night…well, I’d rather not.

Moving right along…

Six, Seven, Eight…

It’s a lot easier to get ten sit ups done when you begin with number six. I’m beginning to lose hope in ever getting my inspiration jeans on. I’ve completely ignored them hanging in my bathroom. My middle is just as round as it’s been since eating turkey at Thanksgiving…and Christmas…and all that candy last Halloween… It doesn’t help that City Boy is home so much these days. Do you know that man only works 14 days a month? Yet another reason the empire he works for can be considered evil. Not that I mind having him home, but he either takes me out to dinner of feeds me huge, delicious meals here. I know…I should complain of such a thing! But my jeans don’t fit, dad gum it! They just don’t fit. And I hate to think I wasted that 99 cents at the thrift store! I guess I can’t complain too loudly…he didn’t buy me chocolate for Valentine’s Day. (Please picture that little eye rolling emoticon here.)

I need an Oreo cookie…hang on, I’ll be right back.

I wish we’d gotten the double stuff ones. Not that I’m eating them, of course…

Are you getting excited to learn about the contest? Want a little clue as to when it is? Tough. Not today. Just keep coming back, and coming back…and pretty soon you’ll find it. The theme? Coming Clean…

Okay, then…just a peek at the prize basket! But don’t tell anyone else I let you look!


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Answer me…why are you here?

1) Oh, Tracey, you’re just so darned witty and I’m completely addicted to your blog! I can’t go a day without it!! (Thank you, you’re so kind for saying that!)

2) I’m just waiting to see what other stupid, embarrassing things you do. (Thank you…sort of. Glad to at least keep you amused at some level.)

3) I was doing a Google search for big bottoms, this is where it led me. (Ha! Fooled ya, didn’t I?)

I installed a new stat counter which lets me see exactly what people are looking for when they find me through Google… It would appear that in order to build traffic to this blog I’d need to tweak the titles of my posts, eh?

Okay, on to other things…

I was here earlier this morning trying to post when my computer froze up. Since I had other things to get done, I hit the restart button. I know to some of you the proper terminology is ‘rebooting’, however, around here rebooting is generally when City Boy gives me a second swift kick in the arse to get moving. So, you go ahead and reboot; I’ll just restart as it’s a lot less painful.

Before I was interrupted by my little computer glitch, I was going to thank Pea for putting a little booger link together for me! I sent it on over to Slick so he could let folks know he’d gotten an award for his post on the spelling bee. Now, don’t ask me why it made me laugh…it just did. Likely because it was so absurd. But again, I warn you…if you go over there, his blog isn’t exactly to every one’s liking/taste.

Upcoming Contest!

No, I’m not going to tell you when, other than the details will be posted later this week. So you’ll just have to keep coming back to find out, won’t you? And there’s a pretty decent prize (I think) for the winner. Like, oh, a huge basket of bath goodies with a value of over $50! Okay, perhaps just a wee hint…you’d better begin thinking up all of life’s embarrassing moments =)

Have a terrific Sunday everyone, and God Bless!

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Why Slick Had me Awake at 3:00 am…

A picture of Darling’s smile.

Whenever I come to my blog and see your comments, it makes me smile. I often then go visit your blog (if you’ve got one), and read what you’ve got to say. Sometimes I leave comments, and I’m always interested in reading other people’s comments as well. And if I see someone commenting on your blog whom I’ve yet to meet, well, I tend to click their name and follow the link to their blog. It’s a fun, distracting way to pass the afternoon, evening, early morning when perhaps I ought to be doing something else (cleaning toilets? Never! Sleeping? Well, that’s a novel idea…)

Skipping through blogland in this fashion is how I came across Slick’s blog. If you read the comments left by others here yesterday, you’d have seen that Slick was among you, confessing to thinking the piglets were cute. He also requested that I not let word of that get around, but since he left the comment here, I don’t see any harm in repeating it here (I promise, Slick, I won’t come over to your blog and leave feedback concerning your affection for little pink piggies…really, I won’t. I promise!)

Now, if you click Slick’s link, I feel I must warn you in advance that Slick’s blog is not for everyone. I only say that because the first post I read there was Slick telling off some woman who’d written to complain about his language. I find this interesting, myself, that people will read your blog and then send you mail to either complain or let you know they’re praying for your soul. In fact, I’m a bit jealous. No one ever writes to me complaining (okay, that part I’m not jealous about) or to let me know they’re praying for me. What, am I not worthy of your prayers? Are you not concerned with my soul? Humph…I’m a sinner, too, y’know…

But I digress. I didn’t spend a whole lot of time in Slick’s little world; I didn’t watch the video of him talking to his daughter (after reading his tirade directed to the woman complaining about his language, I thought I’d rather skip that little treasure of a video.) I did, however, skip down to the post he’d left the following day where he explains exactly what a redneck gentleman he is. And he made me laugh, out loud. And as I told him, I rarely laugh out loud at people’s blogs. Chuckle, giggle, yes. LOL? Well, let’s just say I’m prone to typing it more than actually doing it. And I think we all know why that is. To truly LOL for me means there may be boogers on my screen.

But again…I digress. But not really, for Slick was also complaining about not receiving any blogger awards. And I thought…yeah…I didn’t get a blogger award, either! Never mind that I’ve only been blogging for a few weeks. But Slick, well, I’m not sure how long he’s been blogging, but he did make me laugh. Out loud, even. And this surely is worthy of an award.

For some strange reason, these were the thoughts running through my head at 3 am this morning. I’m sure Slick is getting a good laugh knowing that he had me awake and unable to sleep at 3 am. Something tells me not many women would admit this publicly. Go ahead, Slick, you redneck southern gentleman, give it a good guffaw. Go ahead, get it out. Now let me tell you exactly why I was thinking about you…

It occurred to me that perhaps I ought to create my own blog awards. Something special to give to those people who really get a good snot…er…snort out of me. I’ll call them the Booger Blog Awards! There was a second option, of course, as when you get to be my age, and if you’ve got a full bladder, you run the risk of laughing so hard you pee your pants. But somehow I didn’t think the Wet Undies Award would be a good one…people may get the wrong idea!
But back to boogers: Of course, I won’t be sending the winners a real live booger, that would just be gross. No, I’ll need to come up with some sort of cyber booger to send to people when they make me snort snot all over my keyboard. I’ll have my graphic artist come up with something. Of course, I’ve no clue how to write html…maybe someone out there does? That way my booger can actually have a link, like other blog awards do. I think that would be neato.

But back to Slick. Dahling…since you made me laugh out loud, and since you’re whining about not getting a blog award, I’d like to offer you the first ever Booger Blog Award! When the little Booger Blog Button is created, I’ll send it to you to proudly post on your blog site, K? And now you know why you had me awake at 3:00 am.

Now that I’ve got all that off my mind, I’m headed back to bed…

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What’s this all about??? Snow! Hey, you eastern states, take it back!

Okay, read on. I just had to gripe a bit.

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Pig Latin

City Boy and I often have a discussion as to whether or not this is a farm. He says no, as he clearly does not want to be a farmer. I say yes, as I do want to be a farmer. To help us settle this debate, I have looked up the definition of ‘farm’; these are a few of the definitions that were given:

1. a tract of land, usually with a house, barn, silo, etc., on which crops and often livestock are raised for livelihood.
2. land or water devoted to the raising of animals, fish, plants, etc.: a pig farm; an oyster farm; a tree farm.
3. a similar, usually commercial, site where a product is manufactured or cultivated: a cheese farm; a honey farm.
4. to cultivate (land).

With these four meanings, I can be pretty sure that I live on a farm (minus the silo.) I may not make my sole living from it, however, I do raise livestock and have provided a bit of vegetables over the years. The land has been cultivated, even if just minimally. And I produce sheep milk soaps, thanks to the sheep out there in the pasture.
Hence, I can consider myself a farmer.
Why is it, then, that I still have farm envy? Is it because I’ve so many friends with bigger farms?
Today I went to visit some farming friends of mine. They’ve got a large tract of land where they raise calves, and most definitely make their living from it. The calves come to them as day olds, they live in these cozy little hutches which I call Calf Loos (kinda like the dogloos, you know? Only for calves. Unless they happen to have one of those buffalo-calf crosses there, in which case I call them calfabufaloos…) In the summer, when it gets a bit too cozy (also known as bloody hot), there is a shade screen stretched above the hutches to help keep the calves cool..
The hutches are lined up in rows; there’s a vent at the top of the dome to help control the temperature and of course the door in the front for those most adorably little calfie faces to hang out!

The hutches actually have plenty of room for these babies to move about it; no need for you to worry and think about those poor little veal calves who have no space. I’ve even seen them kick up their heels a bit! The hutch keeps them safe from predators as well as isolating them should there be any form of illness. Once they grow up a bit, they get to go into the big barn (pictured at the top of the page.)

The calves get fed a special formula; the bottles get pulled along in this cart and dropped into the opening in the hutch. The calves know the routine, let me tell you! By the time the last calf has it’s milk bottle, the first ones have already emptied theirs and they need to be picked up.
While we were there, H (I’ve debated…do I use real names? Or just initials?) asked me if I’d liked the snow this winter. Um…no…not really. I told him snow was a four letter word. He said yeah, kinda like Tracey. I looked at him with a puzzled look. Um, no, couldn’t he count? Tracey had six letters…unless…hey! Watch what you’re saying there, buddy! Call me a four letter word… Why are you laughing like that, H?
Darling and I had really come over to see the more recent addition to the farm, though; piglets! Now I ask you, is there anything cuter than a baby pig? I mean, really? They’re so cute and smiley and pink…and cute!
Okay, not that one. He was big and ugly, and had freaky blue eyes….

Oh, yeah! Now that’s what I’m talking about!
Major cuteness going on here!

Take me home with you…I can do tricks!

Who needs a dog? I’d make the perfect house pet!

I don’t eat much…

Such a good mamma, letting Junior play piggie back.

Do you speak Pig Latin?

Wait a minute…what have we here? Ahhh…there’s H, trying to hide from the camera! Silly H…

You’ll need to do better than that…

Okay, I admit it. I left there a bit envious. My friend D tells me I ought not be. “Yeah,” I said, “it’s a sin. I’ll ask forgiveness later, but for now I’ll be envious.” I promise, D, I’m over my farm envy for tonight. I’m going to head off to bed with visions of pink piggies dancing in my head! (I wonder if City Boy will let us get one?)

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